


Arts and Crafts

by BulmaseekingVegeta



Series: The Prince and the Heiress BVDNs [14]
Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: F/M, Yet another 3-year Gap One Shot, fluffy fluff fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-07 14:37:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 1,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20818943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BulmaseekingVegeta/pseuds/BulmaseekingVegeta
Summary: My September TPTH Regular BVDN submission.  Regular BVDNs comprise of 10 prompts of 100-125 words a piece at 30 minute intervals pertaining to a mystery theme that needs to be guessed throughout the night.  Tonight's theme was Arts and Crafts and the chapter titles are the prompts.  Here we go:During the 3 years waiting for the Androids to arrive, Vegeta and Bulma start a relationship in secret.





	1. Stitches

(Banner was created by @BianWW for the night, isn't it amazing! Follow her on Twitter and Tumblr under the @ already given. And the Vegebul depiction has nothing to do with my story but everything to do with the BVDN's theme.)

Not for the first time, hell, not for the first time that hour, Bulma Briefs reached into the medical kit now Saiyan-sized, well, Saiyan Prince of All Colossal Asshats-sized, for another handful of packets of burn ointment. Then she reached back in for another handful of ointment to make sure his cuts didn’t get infected, despite his nattering in her ear that as a Saiyan, he didn’t get infections. That was utter bullshit and didn’t stop her from getting the stuff out and applying it to his wounds anyway. And she reached into the medical kit again for another roll of self-attaching gauze. All of it because Mister ‘I’m A Saiyan’ didn’t like stitches, they were “primitive”. Kami, damn it, he used to turn into a giant ape!


	2. Easel

She turned back to him. He was sitting on the sofa, pouting like usual although he wouldn’t admit it. But… she did a double take then stared with mouth hanging open. Outside the glass doors leading out to their lawn… it was snowing. It wasn’t even October yet and it was snowing! Nice, big, fluffy flakes that made you want to throw on your softest sweater, snuggle into your warmest blanket, and watch the snowfall like it were a landscape painting on an easel with a big mug of steaming hot apple cider.

Slowly the grin spread across her face. Her eyes dazzling at they zeroed in on each flake that tumbled down in the most erratic way possible. Her eyes trying to focus on them all.


	3. Pins and Needles

Vegeta sat there with his free arm crossed over his chest with the other sitting on her lap as he waited for her to administer her treatment of his newer wounds earned in her father’s gravity room.

Except that he kept waiting.

She had retrieved items from the medical kit then didn’t do anything. He glanced over at her beside him. She was gaping at something out the doors. He looked. It was snowing. So what, it was perfectly acceptable for this climate.

“Tch,” he scoffed.

She nearly jumped out of her skin beside him. He glanced over at her, but quickly away again.

“There’s no need to jump like that,” he admonished.

She didn’t respond, but picked up her supplies and began to address his injuries. Her soft touch on his palms pricked his senses, but her ointments stung like the jabs of needles.


	4. Stuck Like Glue

“There, finished. See, stuck like glue,” she laughed as she patted the rubbery gauze to itself over the wound he’d gotten on his palm.

Vegeta scowled at the Woman as she ignorantly gathered up the used wrappers of ointment. She rose as he began testing the flexing of his hand. The gauze would be a bit of a restraint, but it should be a hampering he would work around… easily…

He watched her stand in front of the glass doors and slowly extend her hand to the glass, her fingertips touching it gently with something akin to a child’s awe.

Silently, he rose and went to her. But she didn’t notice him.

He watched her reflection’s eyes follow the snow, her smile blossom, her breathy laugh fill his senses.


	5. Dream Weaver

She’d pushed her bed nearly right in front of her glass balcony doors and had been sitting up in her bed, wearing a fuzzy, pink sweater that bundled around her neck and up to her chin. The aroma of apples filled her nostrils and the soft, plush, white and navy-blue velvet blanket warmed her body in a way that felt almost like she was wallowing in a spa bath. Even when she heard her bedroom door open, the dreamy smile didn’t leave her face.

Bulma leaned forward as soon as she felt the pressure dip down her mattress as his knee rested on it. Without a word, she leaned forward and he slipped in to sit behind her. His legs framing the outside of hers, she laid back against the strong, Saiyan chest, his arms weaving their way around her.


	6. Palette

The sweet taste of apples hit her palette as she sipped then she rested her head back on his shoulder as his fingers softly, lazily caressed over the fleece of her sweater sleeves. This was the only thing the Prince of All Saiyans seemed to do lazily. Her skin tingled indulgently when his nose dipped behind her ear and he inhaled deeply. She’d gotten used to him scenting her. The slipping a tender kiss to her head was new though.

“You’ve been watching it snow for hours, Woman, what’s so interesting about it?”

His voice was hoarse and husky when he spoke this quietly.

A large yawn widened her mouth and her eyes blinked away the threatening sleep languidly.

She sighed and Vegeta held her tighter.


	7. Unravel

Her strength to stay awake was unraveling in the warmth of his alien body. More than once her eyes shut in a blink but didn’t open, her mug of hot, amber liquid dipping ever so slightly forward and the movement alone suddenly snapping open her eyes. Carefully, Vegeta removed it from her hands and set it on the nightstand beside her bed.

“We should go to sleep,” he whispered.

Once again her eyes snapped awake with a sudden jolt of her head. That time her mouth slackened ajar while her eyes were closed and her mug tilted.

“No,” she hummed sleepily. “I want… to…”

“What?” He breathed.

She snapped awake again, “Snow. I want to watch the snow.”

“You can.” He breathed.


	8. Thimble

Vegeta’d never done this before. Not anything like this. Not even on planets where he feared dying form the cold. And this was far from cold. He snuggled closer to her, everything around her, around him, warm and cozy and so lush in comfort. He, what had she called it, spooned her beneath the sheets and thick, velvet blanket; their bodies angled just so that she could still watch the snow outside. She had mumbled about how she liked to watch the snow fall at night as he’d helped her out of her sweater and they transitioned to underneath the sheets as well.

“What,” he asked, his own eyes on the weather… and seeing what she thought was so rapturous about the sight.

“Thimble,” she mumbled in her haze of sleep.

“What,” he smiled, nuzzling behind her ear again, slipping her another small kiss.

“Hmmm,” words finally evading her totally.


	9. Button Up

He’d never spent time in her bed like this, falling into sleep with his arms wrapped around her, when he wasn’t naked. Well… he was, he didn’t sleep in what she called pajamas, but still, they hadn’t drifted off to sleep after being intimate. Well… he glanced over at her… down at how they were lying together in bed… remembering how he had scented her, nuzzled her, kissed her… so, this was intimate, but still, he hadn’t bedded her. Not tonight.

Tonight was… better. More. So much more than just what they normally did in the secrecy of the night. She knew, they both knew not to talk about this, to button up their mouths any time they were outside of this room.

He drew his body closer to her underwear clad one, rested his head by hers, and looked down their bodies and beyond the glass to the quiet serenity of the snowfall.


	10. Paper Thin

Vegeta didn’t stop his fingers after he realized they were gently stroking the bare skin of her hand. Instead, his lips pressed to the top of Bulma’s shoulder and kissed. He sighed, heavily, contentedly. He almost didn’t recognize the sound coming from him. In his whole life, he had never known this thing called contentment, but he did now, here, in her bed.

With her.

Suddenly she shifted. He pulled away from her just enough to let her roll over in her sleep to face him. Gone was their spooning. She wrapped an arm around his neck, buried her face in the other side of his neck, and snuggled her body practically flat with his own, their legs tangling. When she was settled back into sleep, he wrapped his arms around her waste again and he too settled back into sleep. He felt the call of his body for hers, the barrier between them paper thin.

But he shut his eyes, they could always be more carnal in the morning, wouldn’t be the first time, but this moment, he wanted to just sleep in her arms and she in his.


End file.
